


Fields Of Spring

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Centaur AU, M/M, Madara can't flirt no matter what species he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 21:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Every year the centaur herds gather at the mating grounds in spring. Madara hasn't made the trip in years and he has low hopes of finding a match his first time back until he encounters a stallion that captures his interest at first sight.





	Fields Of Spring

Madara pawed at the earth beneath him with his left front hoof, enjoying the way the springy turf gave so easily. Spring had thawed all traces of winter from the ground and the grass this year was a beautiful healthy green that he knew would feel like cool kisses against his fingertips if he knelt down to touch it. Truly the budding months were his favorite season as he watched the world around them unfurl all new and fresh.

For the unbonded adults in his herd, the spring trip to the mating grounds was the most important event of the year. Madara hadn’t been able to attend for the last several years no matter how much he wanted to, one of the few left behind each time to defend their lands against predators and the occasional wandering human. His heart yearned for a partner yet he had spent the last month or so telling himself not to get his hopes up too high. He was several years above the typical mating age and Madara was well aware that even without that he would be a hard match to sell. As his brothers were fond of telling him, his personality left much to be desired.

Still, he refused to lose all hope before he had even tried. As the next in line to become the leader of his herd once Tajima finally passed away, he would be a prestigious match for any who could stand his tempestuous ways. Surely there must be someone like that out there for him.

Perhaps, he mused, he should attempt to attract a mate from one of the forest herds. Coming from the bloodlines of those who ran the plains, most of the herds he had met with in his life valued speed above all other physical traits. Madara was not particularly fast but he had fought for and earned his position as heir by being the strongest. Those who made their homes in the forest had less need for swiftness and more need for strength. Seeking a mate amongst them might be easier. The match might end up less satisfying for him but he supposed it had to be better than continuing on alone.

Light hoof beats drew his attention, making him turn his head to watch the approach of his youngest brother. Takuma grinned at him and reached out to tug lightly on Madara’s tail as he drew close. With a frown and a twitch, Madara shifted his flank out of reach.

“You know I hate that,” he grumbled. Takuma nodded.

“I know. That’s why I do it.” He threw his older brother a wink. “Are you excited?”

“We’re the first ones here. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Madara looked away, casting his eyes over the unbonded mares and stallions who had accompanied him on this year’s journey. Some bonded pairs had come as well, hoping to see distant family members, but for the most part the massive tundra was dotted with those who had come here hoping to find a mate as Madara had.

Takuma danced sideways to knock their withers together then darted away before he could get one of his ankles kicked. “I just hope Izuna comes. It would be nice to see him again!”

Madara only nodded in response. He hadn’t seen the eldest of his younger brothers since this time last year when the other had found a mate and made the decision to join her herd. Apparently it was love at first sight for him, although rumor in the clan said he had to fight tooth and nail to gain her favor. Such actions smacked of desperation in Madara’s opinion but he told himself he would say nothing about it to Izuna should he happen to see his brother here.

Other groups arrived slowly as the day wore on. Two from the plains arrived together, sister herds so closely knit that it was often assumed they had simply merged in to one. With every arrival of one of the forest herds Madara felt the fur on the lower half of his body standing upright. They all moved so silently, so differently from what he was used to. On the plains it mattered less that one could be heard if one could also be seen from more than several miles away. The way these centaurs moved with quiet unconscious grace was both eerie and spellbinding.

At least, he thought so right up until there came a thundering from the forest which was more than familiar to his ears. The sounds of a stampede were the sounds of home to him but he would never have expected to hear them coming from within the thick forest. Did they even have room to run in there? He couldn’t say, never having stood between the trees himself. The mating grounds were as close as he had ever come.

He noticed some of the forest dwellers rolling their eyes and smiling in fond exasperation but had no time to reflect on that as he noticed the shadows in that sunless darkness moving. A moment later the shadows took shape and he was startled to watch several centaur bodies hurl themselves out on to the open grass.

Leading the herd were two massive stallions, probably the tallest he had ever seen with wild grins displayed openly on both of their faces, the sheer joy of running that was instinctual to all centaurs no matter where they were raised. At a glance he guessed that the smaller of the two would still have been around eighteen hands tall, impressive next to Madara’s own sixteen hands, and both of them had beads braided in to the fringe of their hair in a way he knew marked them as high ranking within their herd. The bigger one had a body of chocolate brown, dark skin and brown hair to match. He was big, though nothing overly delightful to look at in Madara’s opinion. The smaller one, on the other hand–

Smaller felt like the wrong word to use when the stallion he was describing was still so much bigger than himself. He was pure, uninterrupted white from the crown of his head to the tips of his hooves and if not for the lack of horn Madara might have mistaken him for a unicorn hybrid. His face was marked with three lines of red war paint, the only color on his body but for the tricolored beads in his hair. This one was _very_ interesting to look at. Muscles rippled under his skin with every movement but they weren’t the bulky muscles his companion had – like Madara himself had. Rather, he had a body built for speed and Madara despaired that such a fine specimen had obviously chosen to bond in to a herd from the forest. That was one stallion he would love to see in motion.

“Well if it isn’t Madara!”

Blinking at the call of his name, he turned to see that the brown centaur was looking at him and frantically waving both arms.

“Hey! Hey Madara! It’s me Hashirama!”

His face twisted in to a rictus of disbelief as the other began to gallop towards him, long hair streaming behind him like a banner. That couldn’t possibly be the same idiot foal who had followed him all around the mating grounds when they were too young to actually look for mates, accompanying their older relatives to learn the traditions of the season.

Yet, as he drew closer, Madara got a better look at him and realized that it _was_ the same centaur. Hashirama certainly had grown up in the years since he had declared them best friends for life. By the beads in his hair it was clear that he was now the leader of his own herd, a prestigious accomplishment, yet the weight of responsibility had done nothing to dim the brightness of his smile. Reluctantly, Madara smiled back.

“You look as foolish as you used to,” he said in lieu of a greeting. Hashirama boomed out a laugh.

“I was beginning to think you’d found a mate in your own herd and skipped all the formalities!”

“Hmph. If only. And you? Haven’t you found some poor unlucky soul to inflict yourself upon?”

Trotting in a short circle so that they might stand side by side, Hashirama released a smitten sigh. “I found the perfect mate,” he gushed. “Her name is Mito and she’s the most beautiful mare I have ever seen. So perfect. I really don’t deserve her and I’m just so lucky she chose me.”

“Ugh, I didn’t ask for a sappy backstory. What are you doing here then if you’ve already bonded?” Flicking his tail, Madara tried not to look too put out that a goofball like Hashirama had found a mate while he hadn’t.

“Oh, well, I have to come every year still. If I didn’t drive the herd this way then Tobirama would never show up and I _know_ he’s lonely even if he always says he isn’t.”

As he spoke, Hashirama waved a hand to indicate someone across the field and when Madara looked to see who it was he nearly choked. It was the white stallion which had thundered out of the woods at Hashirama’s side looking like a fever dream, something entirely out of fantasy. Madara had to swallow thickly and shift his weight, left front hoof raised to paw at the turf again, before he could answer.

“ _That’s_ your brother?” he demanded. “How is _he_ not mated?” Hashirama shook his head and crossed his arms, stamping absently with the familiar irritation of an older sibling.

“No one’s ever caught his eye, I guess. I keep telling him he’s too picky but he never takes interest in anyone. He likes to take part in the competitions while we’re here though. Well, the ones he can win.”

Keeping his silence, Madara admitted to himself that he would definitely be looking forward to that. The competitions were usually games like wrestling and javelin throwing that were meant to show off your skills to any potential mates. Whether Tobirama would do as well in the races as his figure promised remained to be seen and Madara intended to get himself a front row position to watch.

Since the first day was a social day, meant for the herds to gather and mingle, Madara spent most of his time at Hashirama’s side letting his old friend babble at him about how much life had changed over the years. Apparently more of his herd would be arriving later, bonded pairs who could afford to travel here at a more leisurely pace to reconnect with centaurs from other places that they rarely had a chance to see. The only reason the few with him had arrived on time this year was because Hashirama’s brother had challenged him to a race.

Madara was more intrigued by that one offhand little tidbit than anything else his friend said for the rest of the afternoon.

He bedded down for the evening by himself as he usually did, tramping down a small patch of grass and curling his legs underneath himself. When he was younger he had once seen a pure horse, a poor lost little thing, and he’d been amused not just by the creature’s inability to communicate but also by its habit of falling asleep in a standing position. What would he do with his upper half if he had to do the same?

True, most centaur preferred to sleep in pairs or small groups to have a place to rest their heads and torsos. Not being close to any but his own family, Madara had long gotten used to simply bedding down next to a convenient bush or the rare tree. It was lonely but to him it was preferable to trying to sleep while tense from having someone he didn’t know well leaning against him so intimately. Anyone who tried to shame him for being so antisocial would get a good strong kick for their troubles.

By the time he woke the next morning dawn had long passed and a few groups had already gathered to organize some games. As much as he would have liked to see if there were any races being held, Madara found his competitive nature rising up and encouraging him to wander over to where he could hear some forest dwellers calling out for wrestling challengers. Considering the lifestyle habits of his own herd, it was rare to find someone both willing to wrestle with him and capable of providing a good challenge. The lure of some good competition was simply too much to pass up.

For the first handful of matches he simply hung back and observed, allowing others to weed out the weaker competitors he needn’t bother with. His ego was large enough without stomping the poor creatures in to the ground with such ease. Only once the fights began to show signs of being closely matched did he finally shift a little closer and wait for another challenge to be issued, eager to take part.

He watched a thick armed mare with a dappled grey coat and swarthy skin toss her opponent to the ground at last and smirked. She looked tough flexing like that of course but he had enough tricks up his sleeve not to feel worried in the least. When she asked if there was anyone else willing to take her on he stepped forward without hesitation, offering little more than his name as introduction before taking his place opposite her in the ring someone had stamped in to the grass. She called out a few taunts but he ignored them, rotating his shoulders to loosen the muscles.

A spectator called for them to start and Madara did not hesitate to leap forward and allow his thick body to take the brunt of the impact when he and his opponent met in the middle. Her beefy arms reached to try and trap him in a hold but he blocked her and they both grappled for the upper hand. Muscles strained as the two of them dug in their hooves, pushing off the ground in an attempt to force the other backwards, and Madara allowed himself a feral grin when he felt the mare begin to slide backwards slightly. She snarled at him as though he had laughed out loud in derision but he didn’t rise to the bait, not letting her poor sportsmanship get to him.

One subtle shift of muscles was all it took to throw her off balance, making her stumble and giving him the opening he needed. Watching her face turn from smug to dismayed was a greater reward than the victory itself as Madara bulled forward and forced his opponent down with sheer strength, folding her two front legs until she knelt before him as though in respect.

Madara grinned a small bit and lifted his head to ask, as the victor, if anyone wished to try their hand at beating him. As he did so a flash of white caught his eye. Just beyond the ring of spectators stood Tobirama, arms folded and body completely still but for the flicking tail as the stallion eyed him with a contemplative look on his sharp face. Under that gaze Madara suddenly hoped twice as much that someone else stepped up to his challenge. He’d never felt as though he had much to offer but that certainly wasn’t going to stop him from playing up the qualities he did have.

To his delight, someone did answer his challenge. Several, in fact. When he finally grew tired and bowed out with grace he did so undefeated, having wrestled two stallions and another mare down to the ground. One of his matches he very nearly lost because he was paying more attention to making sure the way he flexed showed off his muscles properly.

Disappointingly, however, as he left the gathering and glanced around, Tobirama was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he hadn’t impressed the stallion as much as he’d thought he would. Madara scowled lightly with disappointment but forced himself not to get too down about it. Just because he found Tobirama physically appealing didn’t mean he would make a good mate. For all he knew they might not even get along.

Instead of stewing in his own head Madara sought out Takuma and watched his youngest brother play dancing games with a few friends, showing off his nimble swiftness with fancy steps that made him appear to be dancing on air while he and his partner trotted in circles around each other. Dancing was another thing which should have come easily to Madara but didn’t. At times he wondered if he hadn’t been accidentally switched with another foal at birth – but then, even if he had been, he would never wish to know. He loved his brothers too much to ever want for another family.

Madara eyed the small group making music for the dancers and wondered if he should fetch an instrument and join in. Music was a common skill across all the herds and while it wouldn’t exactly help him to stand out, it would certainly help him feel less out of place. In the end he decided against it and wandered away. He wasn’t feeling very musical at the moment.

For most of the day he wandered from place to place on the open tundra, watching different competitions but rarely taking part. A lot of them were team events which would require him to work together with others and that seemed a poor idea considering his personality. He came here looking to find a mate, not to drive away all of his prospects in the first day. Madara preferred to watch those games and judge silently.

Eventually as evening came around and he was wondering if he would ever spot Hashirama again, his old friend popped up at his side as though a mere thought had summoned his presence.

“Madara! Why aren’t you taking part in any of the games?” Hashirama reached out to shove playfully at his shoulder. “Too afraid to lose?”

“I’ve taken part enough for today I think,” he grumbled in reply, not bother to look over.

“Ah, but I didn’t get to see you join anything!” Hashirama pouted, his upper body drooping so that his arms hung down towards his forelegs. Before Madara could say anything snarky in reply, another voice popped up from behind him.

“He caused quite a stir where they are holding the wrestling competitions.”

Madara’s head whipped around to see that Tobirama had accompanied his brother, their approach so silent that he hadn’t heard either of them. He tried not to be obvious about the way his eyes traced the white stallion, appreciating the fine curve of his back or the shape of his legs. When he realized that he was still ogling and no one else was saying anything he cleared his throat and awkwardly looked forward again, scanning over the crowds and looking for some of the centaur he had led here this year. It was his job to look out for each of them after all.

“I won a few rounds,” he admitted, trying for a bit of modesty.

“They held out hope all day that you would return and accept more challenges.” Tobirama’s voice was smooth and deep and Madara could feel his body trying to quiver at the pleasant sound of it, curious to know how Tobirama knew that. Had the other stallion truly gone back to the wrestling games and listened to others talk about him or had he picked up gossip from someone else?

“Hmm. If I had known that then perhaps I would have,” Madara said. His eyes drifted to the side, trying to see Tobirama’s reaction without letting the other know that he was overly interested. Flirting had never been his forte and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to give it a go with Hashirama standing right there, oblivious and brotherly.

“You should,” Tobirama told him in a bland voice, no inflection which would have revealed his thoughts on the matter. “As for myself, I’m looking forward to taking part in the races that have been planned for tomorrow.”

Never before had Madara heard an invitation so subtle that he wasn’t entirely positive that it _was_ an invitation. Either way he most certainly planned on attending those same races tomorrow. He couldn’t wait to see Tobirama in motion, flying across the tundra and stretching his body out to push himself as fast as he could go.

In an attempt to draw attention away from himself, Madara asked Hashirama to tell him tales of the last few years and all the more interesting things that he had missed. His friend was more than happy to blather on about this mare embarrassing herself or that young foal being silly as he imitated the adults trying to impress each other. Madara made the odd comment here or there, laughed at the tales of his fellow centaurs’ stupid attempts at mating, but mostly he preferred to keep quiet and listen.

After a while he noticed Tobirama shifting restlessly, hooves lifting and stepping down so lightly that he never would have noticed if he hadn’t looked over at him. Feeling a tad bold, he shifted slightly away from Hashirama and flicked his tail at just the right angle so that the ends of the long darks hairs brushed against Tobirama’s pure coat.

When the other looked at him Madara assumed an innocent expression and held it despite the fact that that he could see Tobirama wasn’t fooled in the slightest. What was important was that he didn’t look annoyed, only slightly amused. The moment Madara returned his eyes back to watching the organized chaos around then he felt the snap of fine hairs brushing against his own side and had to clear his throat to hide a triumphant smile. He most definitely had Tobirama’s attention.

The two stallions of the Senju herd kept him company for a long while after that until the evening had grown deep and they left to claim a place to bed down for the night. As the two of them slipped away Tobirama flicked his tail one last time, letting it brush against the chest of Madara’s lower half, and looking back over one shoulder as he walked away. His expression didn’t exactly reveal much, carefully blank as it was, but there was something warm about the look in his eyes that had Madara shifting where he stood, his instincts rising and his mind automatically listing ways in which Tobirama would make a good mate.

He was attractive, of course, that much was obvious, but there were certain things about him that stood out to make him the most attractive stallion Madara had ever seen. The color of his coat was certainly unique, not to mention his massive height. Three glass beads in a single braid of his hair marked him as the second highest ranking member of his herd, an amazing match for someone of the same ranking amongst his own people who also stood to lead the herd someday. No young would come of their match but Madara had been prepared for that the day he accepted that he would one day bond himself to another stallion rather than a mare. He expected no foals of his own and if Tobirama was returning his interest then he assumed the other was just as accepting of that idea.

Really the only thing he had to worry about so far was the possibility of Hashirama taking exception to the match. He was confident that if anyone dared to challenge him for the right to mate with Tobirama he could easily win that challenge.

Left alone, Madara sought out Takuma and asked how he was enjoying himself so far. His sibling relayed to him how much fun the dancing had been and giggled over having caught the eye of a rather pretty mare as well as a dashing young stallion who he was seriously contemplating. Madara promised in a casual voice to trample them both if they gave him any trouble and Takuma only laughed. He’d always enjoyed a bit of darker humor, especially when he knew that Madara actually meant it.

Once it came time to sleep, however, Madara watched Takuma trot off towards what few friends of his own age had travelled here with them before wandering away himself, back to the same spot where he had bedded down the night before. The evening was cold and he was more than aware that he would have been warmer with another body there but he made do with leaning up against the same tree and closing his eyes, easily sinking down in to dreams of how red eyes had looked back at him with all sorts of unspoken promises he couldn’t wait to discover.

Morning saw him waking much earlier than he had the day before, up and about seeking breakfast with Takuma only barely after the sun had risen. His brother was full of energy as usual and chattering away about all the things he wanted to do that day.

“Just don’t cause any stampedes again,” Madara cautioned with a wry smile.

“Maybe a little one?” his sibling bargained jokingly. He narrowed his eyes.

“If I have to round up another stampede because you somehow started a bonfire in the wrong place again then we’ll just see if you’re allowed to come here next year.”

“Try and stop me!” Takuma surged to his feet, tugging playfully on Madara’s tail as he bolted away almost all in one motion. Completely ignoring his older brother’s angry shouts, the young stallion hurried down the small hill they had been observing from as they ate their breakfast. Madara watched him go before snorting and stamping his hoofs in pretended irritation. As much as he loved his brother it wouldn’t do for anyone who might be watching them to think he was as sappy as a young foal or something.

Satisfied that his youngest sibling was doing alright, Madara spent a good chunk of his morning trotting from place to place, checking in on all of those who had traveled here with him. He did his duty to make sure they were all well, making a few mental notes of which ones appeared to have found potential mates. He would need to discuss with them whether they were planning to emigrate to their new mate’s herd or whether their bond would increase the ranks of those who called themselves Uchiha. Luckily none of them seemed to be trying to bond with poor stock so after he had asked his perfunctory questions he left them all be.

There was still more than an hour left until noon when he began a different search. He had yet to see Tobirama and wondered where the stallion had hid himself away this morning. Madara cantered easily to the top of the closest knoll and used the advantage of height to look around at the masses gathered. Seeing so many of his own kind in one place had always filled him with a fierce sort of pride but he ignored the familiar thrill of such thoughts and concentrated on seeking out one particular individual.

He spotted neither Tobirama nor Hashirama, whom he assumed would be nearby, but he did notice a line of centaur racing across a cleared section of flat grass and the sight made him grin. Even if the other wasn’t there at the moment, where better to run in to Tobirama than at the very contest he had admitted he wished to take part in today?

Madara didn’t bother to hurry in that direction. If the one he was looking for happened to see him then he didn’t want to appear too eager. His mother had always said that finding a mate was like a dance and one misstep could throw everything out of balance. He wanted to be himself because bonding would keep them together for a lifetime and to present a false impression of himself would only cause misery down the road, yet he was just as worried as all the generations before him had been that the full force of his personality would scare his potential match away. It was a worry more commonly found in adolescents but Madara felt he had more reason to be worried than many others. He was fairly hard to get along with for most.

So it was with a deliberately sedate pace that he made his way through the crowds to find himself a better spot from which to watch the next race. He arrived just as another line was gathering to test their speed against each other. Some of them were calling taunts back and forth about how easily they planned to best each other, some were eyeing up their competition with assessing eyes, and one poor little filly looked so nervous that it was obvious she had been goaded in to joining against her will.

Madara settled himself at a good vantage point, tossing his hair back and scowling when a portion of it fell in to his eyes again. He should have thought to bring a few hair clips but he’d left them all at home. They weren’t really flattering on him anyway, in his opinion, more function than fashion. Rather than make himself look ridiculous holding his own hair out of the way, he settled for tilting his head to one side at a curious angle in the hopes that the breeze would keep his wild locks in place.

His attention was dragged away from his own vanity when a sharp whistle rang out and the current contenders took off from the starting line, arms tucked in close to their bodies to stay as aerodynamic as possible. Most of the pack stayed fairly close together but for a bay mare and the tiny little filly who had looked so nervous, both of them quickly pulling slightly ahead. With a smirk he noticed that the filly seemed to get most of her speed from fear of getting stepped on, although it wasn’t enough to stop the bay from winning by a single length.

Noon came and went while Madara watched several more races. It was a common enough pastime back home that he was quite used to spending time watching others run to and fro, shouting encouragement and insults with equal fervor. Even if none of the centaur here were the one he really wanted to watch, that didn’t mean he couldn’t spend his time admiring those who were competing at the moment. Several of them had fine bodies and pleasing coats and he felt no guilt in letting his eyes travel over the shapes they made as they ran. Hadn’t all of them come here hoping to be admired by someone? He was only taking part in the spirit of the mating season.

And he would be sticking to that story.

Despite how delightful it was to be surrounded by so many attractive members of his own kind taking part in the one activity which could impress him the most, Madara’s attention was diverted with embarrassing ease as soon as Tobirama appeared. A flash of white drew his eye and then nothing else going on around him seemed to matter half as much as he watched the graceful way Tobirama held himself, cantering over at an easy pace from somewhere to the east. The beads in his hair caught edges of sunlight, drawing even more attention towards his face than the three slashes of red war paint decorating his cheeks and chin. In fact, everything about him commanded attention from the way he tossed his head to the authoritative way he moved.

Madara had to compose himself quickly when Tobirama headed straight for him, sending a thrill of satisfaction and nerves shuddering under his skin.

“Come to watch the racing did you?” Tobirama murmured, drawing up next to him casually.

“It caught my interest,” Madara allowed. It wasn’t really meant to fool the other stallion and by the smirk Tobirama gave him it was obvious that he hadn’t.

“Let me know if you see anything particularly interesting.”

The look Tobirama gave him as he walked away again weakened his knees and almost sent him tumbling to the ground. With his eyes half-lidded and scorching hot underneath long white lashes, Madara definitely got the impression Tobirama was racing today just so that he could watch. Not that he had any problem at all allowing the younger stallion a chance to show off for him.

Another group was gathering to compete right then and Madara felt no embarrassment for admiring Tobirama so openly as he inserted himself in to the lineup, especially since it seemed Tobirama was stepping more precisely just for him, legs lifting higher to make pleasing shapes and rump swaying just a little more than was strictly necessary. He was obviously putting on a show. Madara did not mind watching. He even had a front row spot to watch from and everything; how convenient.

Even though he had yet to see Tobirama at full speed, Madara nearly felt pity for any of the others testing themselves against him. The only time he had seen the other running was when he first arrived, bursting out of the trees like a flash of light, but just that one glimpse was all he needed to make a few educated guesses about how much dust the rest of them were about to be eating.

However, the pity didn’t last very long since he’d come here to root for someone else. As he watched them all take their starting positions he did feel the same flash of jealousy he’d been feeling all his life, if only very faintly. Born on the plain, of course he wished he could fly across the land the way others in his herd were able to. He liked to run but he simply wasn’t built to be as fast as he should have been. It was interesting, to him, to see his own situation mirrored in Tobirama. A centaur of the forest herds should had been built with hefty muscle instead of sleek and ready to run. The forest centaur had more predators to fight off and less room to reach full speed when running so it baffled him where Tobirama had come from.

A sharp whistle broke his thoughts and Madara snapped his eyes up just in time to watch Tobirama leap forward, breaking away with a powerful burst of energy from his hind legs. His front legs stretched out to catch the forward momentum, beautifully extended, and for a split second he seemed to hang motionless in the air. Then it was as though time had caught up, sped up, and he was racing, flying, skimming the earth with his hooves barely seeming to touch the grass at all.

Straight away he pulled ahead of the others and Madara smugly noted that it was easier to watch his body move with no one else blocking the view. And what a view. The lines his body made as he ran were as gorgeous as the look of utter concentration on his face, eyes locked on to the two young colts holding scraps of fabric to mark the goal line.

Others struggled to catch up to him, pushing themselves to the limit, but it was no use. Tobirama was like an arrow loosed from a bow, aiming straight and true, swift as the eagle flies. When he crossed the finish line Madara was startled by the cheers around him, having nearly forgotten there was anyone else there but himself and Tobirama. He tried to lift his arms and join in the cheering but he couldn’t. All of his muscles felt too loose, lax and useless, and all he could do was stand motionless and stare while the rest of the contestants thundered across the finish line with a mixture of expressions on their faces. Some of them surprised, others almost angry, a few quite shocked while some of them even looked suddenly interested.

In fact, there were a great number of faces in the crowd of onlookers who took on sudden looks of interest, eyes tracing Tobirama from head to hoof contemplatively. Madara bristled as soon as he noticed and pinned his ears back with a huff. His tail lashed in irritation for the feeling of having his territory encroached on, despite Tobirama not really being his territory – not yet, at least. He’d certainly returned signs of interest but until they had officially begun the mating rituals Madara didn’t truly have a claim that would stick.

He very much wanted one though.

All signs of irritation fell away to be replaced with a deep sense of smug satisfaction when Tobirama headed straight over to him upon returning, blithely ignoring all the others who were trying their hardest to catch his eyes. Madara could see a few members of his own herd here and there but he didn’t feel too bad about crushing their hopes. He did mentally compliment them on their taste, though. Tobirama was a fine stallion indeed.

“Enjoying yourself?” Tobirama murmured, sidling up so close that their coats brushed and mingled, black fur with white.

“Very much so,” Madara purred in reply. Now when his tail flicked it was with less irritation and more of a deliberate tease, letting the silken hairs get caught in Tobirama’s legs with the distant mild hope that they would never come untangled.

“Do tell; quickly though, I think I’d like to take part in a few more races. This is fun. I never have a good challenge among my own herd.”

“Hm.” Madara shifted ever so slightly so that their arms brushed against each other as well. With one casual move he could drape that arm around Tobirama’s waist but managed to resist the urge. He didn’t want to be too forward. “There was one stallion who caught my eye. Very fast. Quite attractive too. He seems to be getting a lot of attention too but it seems to me he might have his eyes already set on a potential mate.”

Swallowing down the rush of nerves to cover such an obvious attempt to fish for an answer, Madara then had to suppress a whine at the fire in Tobirama’s red eyes when their gazes met.

“Yes, I think you’re right. It seems to me that he does.”

Though Madara had never been very good at keeping his conversations subtle, not skilled in the least at talking around a situation in this manner, he was relieved to have pulled it off this time. He had no doubt that Tobirama and he were on the same page and it was doing rather mortifying things to his insides that he hoped weren’t showing on his face. If he blushed right then he would never hear the end of it.

Delightful as it was to feel Tobirama pressed up against him in so many places, he was still relieved when the other stepped away to take part in the next round of races. It gave him a chance to catch his breath and consider a few things while also allowing him to opportunity to admire the way Tobirama moved some more.

He wanted this quite a lot more than he’d thought he would. When he came here to find a mate he’d thought that he would have to settle, to find someone he simply wouldn’t mind sharing the rest of his life with rather than a match he could be excited about. Finding someone like Tobirama, feeling himself react this strongly to someone else, it was more than a bit of a shock. A pleasant one. But that also meant that he had to think about things a bit more carefully than he had anticipated and it left a small stone of worry hanging heavily in his belly.

Mating with a centaur from another herd meant that one of them would be leaving their home. Both of them were heirs, next in line to lead their own people, and Madara wondered how willing Tobirama would be to come live on the plains. If there were someone else who he thought would make a good leader then Madara might consider being the one to make the move but without Izuna there was no one else old enough yet who would be good for the herd. Takuma was still too young, too inexperienced, and as much as Madara loved all of his fellow Uchiha he also knew with a brutal honesty that not many of them would be good leaders. He could not in good conscience leave knowing what state they might fall in to in his absence.

Other things would need to be discussed as well. Every herd had its own hierarchy and as a newcomer Tobirama would need to find his place among them. Madara had no idea how the forest folk determined their pecking order; he wondered if he would need to explain his own customs to Tobirama. He would also need to make sure his chosen mate had the stamina to keep up with the constant movement of the herd. Being fast didn’t mean he had the stamina to constantly stay at that pace. Did the forest herds move around that much? Or did they return to the same place every night like a cat with a den? Madara had no idea.

 Tobirama took part in three more races before evidently deciding that he’d done enough showing off. Amusingly, the reaction to him leaving was similar to the reaction to Madara leaving the wrestling games on the second day – which gave him a delightful idea for something else they could do together if Tobirama would agree to spend more time with him.

As luck would have it, Tobirama brought the subject up before he even had a chance to. Looking as fresh as though he’d been standing still the whole time rather than running at top speed, not even sweating yet, Tobirama walked in a slow circuit around Madara to ward off any muscle cramps as he spoke.

“The rumors are still circling of how well you did in the wrestling ring the other day,” he said, tone casual even if his expression wasn’t. “Now seems like a good time for you to make a triumphant return, as it were, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Did you plan on watching?”

“Closely. Very closely.”

Madara tried not to be too obvious about the cocky satisfaction running through him at the idea of having Tobirama’s full attention in such a manner. Although it took quite a bit of effort, he managed to only look demurely pleased as he nodded his head once in agreement. It didn’t look as though Tobirama was fooled, however. His white coat shivered with amusement, one hoof pawing at the ground before delicately stepping forward to lead the way, and Madara allowed himself a tiny smirk as he followed closely.

Since the races needed a lot more room than most of the other events going on, it took a few minutes to walk back across the open field to where more crowds had gathered. With so much empty space around there wasn’t really any practical reason for the two of them to still be walking so close to each other and yet neither of them made any move to separate. Madara took the time to quietly enjoy the way their arms brushed any time either of them made a gesture as they discussed random topics, not hurrying in the slightest.

They wound their way around the crowds gathered for a stepping game and turned their noses up at a drinking contest mostly attended by youths. Figuring out how the humans brewed alcohol had been one of the more regrettable discoveries of their kind, in Madara’s opinion. He was glad Tobirama seemed to agree. One quick surreptitious glance told him that no one he knew was taking part in that particular game and he was also relieved that he wouldn’t need to hand out disappointed speeches to any wayward idiots later on the stupidity of dulling one’s senses with what amounted to little more than poison.

All thoughts about alcohol and its dangers were erased from his mind when they finally arrived at the area cleared for the wrestling ring. He recognized one of the pair currently inside the ring as the dappled grey he had bested in his first round when he participated before. She looked as overly confident as she had just before he knocked that expression off her face the first time and it only increased as her opponent’s knees buckled under the pressure she was leaning on them. Madara peeked out the corner of one eye to see Tobirama looking mildly impressed and scowled. _He_ was the only one who should be impressing his chosen mate.

With a snort he stomped forward and planted himself right in the mare’s field of view, everything about his stance as challenging as he could make it. The moment she spotted him was obvious as her eyes narrowed and her ears flopped back, momentarily dismayed. He assumed that in his absence she had been making quite a name for herself, obviously hoping he wouldn’t show up again, but he was more than happy to disappoint in this instance.

He had a stallion to show off for.

Flicking her ear and trying not to look intimidated, the mare beckoned him in the ring. Madara swaggered forward with the hopes that all the practice she had obviously been getting would make her more of a challenge than the other day.

As it turned out, she had indeed made some improvements. She must have picked up a couple of new tricks from other fights because this wrestling match was definitely nothing like the one from before. When the two of them came together initially she did everything she could to knock him off balance right at the start. Of course, Madara had much more strength than the average plains-born, so standing his ground and even forcing her back a little wasn’t too much of a hardship for him.

Earth and grass churned beneath their hooves as the two of them turned in a slight circle. Madara lost a little ground but gained twice as much back almost immediately, pressing his opponent inexorably towards the edge of the ring. Both of them flexed and jerked as they tried to throw each other off balance, perhaps even tumble one of them down to the ground.

Setting his jaw, Madara strained as hard as he could with both his arms and his hind legs and pushed with everything he had. The dappled grey bared her teeth at him as her hooves crossed the line of the outer ring, making him the winner, and she took the loss of what was probably an impressive winning streak quite poorly. Madara had no time to even think of celebrating his victory before she was stomping and kicking, loudly demanding a rematch. A part of him knew that he had nothing else to prove against someone he’d already beaten. But he would freely admit that he had always been rather petty and if she wanted to make herself look like a petulant foal then he certainly wasn’t going to stop her.

There was also no time to look over and see what Tobirama thought of all this, although he would have liked to. As soon as he agreed to a second match the mare was leaping past him to take up position in the center of the ring once more. For a moment he considered affecting a little modesty but it was only a fleeting thought. If she was going to be a poor sport, he didn’t feel bad about getting a little cocky.

Embarrassingly – for her at least – he managed to win their second round even more easily than the first. She was definitely letting her emotions get the best of her, all rage and jealousy as she threw herself at him with little finesse. Madara bore the brunt of her weight before easily turning her aside, making her stumble. He could have pressed the advantage but played with her instead, allowing her to find her feet again and throw herself forward once more. This time when he used her own momentum against her to throw her off-balance he kept the movement going until her hooves passed the line of the ring yet again.

He only just managed to see the blow coming and dance back as she swung her fist at his face. Madara scowled, all the amusement building up inside him draining away instantly to be replaced with anger. So what if he was stronger than her and a better wrestler? There was no need to turn violent when she was beaten.

Madara understood when he saw her pulled away by several other centaur that seemed to know her. He watched her gaze lock on to a black piebald somewhat to her left and almost deflate when the stallion turned away, face disappointed. It was that expression which told Madara he may have just interfered with her own mating prospect but he couldn’t truly bring himself to feel bad. She really didn’t have to challenge him after she’d already lost and make herself look worse.

Now free of that small drama, Madara peeked over his shoulder to find Tobirama with his arms crossed and his eyes smoldering like embers, chin ducked down so that those hot eyes peered up at him from beneath the shadow of white fringe. From just that one look Madara felt as though he’d taken a rear kick to the ribs and he knew if he tried to wrestle anyone else he would be too distracted to put in a proper effort. Rather than make an ass of himself right after someone else already had, he bowed out of the ring and made up for it by picking someone random from the crowd to take his spot, stating that they looked fairly strong to fight in his name. The compliment was enough of a distraction for him to slip away.

Another glance over his shoulder told him Tobirama was following along behind him so Madara kept a leisurely pace and allowed the other to catch up. Together they wandered aimlessly from place to place, stopping to watch an event or two but for the most part keeping to themselves as they talked about so many different things Madara began to wonder if he had ever spoken this much in a full week let alone a single day. He found himself a little distracted at times by the sheer size of Tobirama, his mouth running dry every time he noticed again how much taller than him the other stallion was.

He was pleased, however, that they had a chance to address all the topics he had been thinking about earlier. Although, they mostly skirted around things as though they were speaking hypothetically like they had done during the races. Madara mentioned that his brother had moved herds last year and that he simply wasn’t in a position to do the same, to which Tobirama oh-so-casually replied that he would be willing to do so – for the right match. When complimented on his speed Tobirama told him in a deliberately offhand manner that he could keep that speed for hours if needed.

Apparently he’d wandered off alone for a few weeks one time just to test and see if he could. Hashirama hadn’t been too impressed but Tobirama wasn’t really all that afraid of his older brother so he mostly ignored the scolding that little adventure had earned him.

By the time evening fell Madara knew Tobirama better than he knew almost anyone. Even amongst his own herd the only ones he could say he was close to were his brothers. With Izuna gone and Takuma enjoying most of his time with friends as he got older, Madara had spent a lot of his days alone over the last few years. So much so that, even though he was very enthusiastic about how well things were going with Tobirama, he was still a bit startled when it came time to bed down for the night and the stallion didn’t immediately leave.

“Hashirama tells me that you went the last few nights sleeping against a tree,” Tobirama murmured, the hairs of his tail swishing calmly from side to side in a hypnotic rhythm. Madara hummed.

“As I usually do.”

“That seems rather uncomfortable. Wouldn’t it be better to sleep next to someone?”

“Yes it probably would be.” Madara shrugged; he was used to it. “I don’t feel comfortable with most others and Takuma prefers to bed down in a group. That is…not for me.”

“I see.”

Perhaps a handful of heartbeats passed in comfortable silence before Tobirama spoke up again.

“If you would be comfortable, you could spend the night with me.”

Madara nearly choked on his own tongue and his reply didn’t come out anywhere nearly as casual as he meant for it to, almost whispering that he found the idea acceptable. He pretended not to notice when Tobirama smirked at him knowingly. Smug bastard. It shouldn’t be so attractive but it really, really was.

Without even needing to discuss it, the pair of them moved away from the areas where others were already preparing themselves for sleep. It seemed the Tobirama shared his preference for a bit of space from most others, which was a good thing if they were to be mated for the rest of their lives. Just the idea of being constantly forced to socialize with others he had no desire to speak to was incredibly uncomfortable.

Once they had found a small area covered with soft springy clover to make their bed Tobirama tossed his hair and affected a careful guileless expression.

“I admit, I did not have high hopes of actually finding someone who I would be willing to mate with when I came here. Finding you was a great fortune.” He stepped carefully until they were side by side, so close Madara could feel the lines of their lower bodies pressed together from shoulder to thigh. “You’re much more than I ever thought I would have. I would be honored to offer you my bloodline.”

Madara didn’t have the concentration to spare for being embarrassed at the hitch in his breath. The ritual offering should have sounded funny from one stallion to another but he thought they were the most romantic words he had ever heard, even if every mating pair spoke the same phrase to make their intentions official.

Rather than answer verbally – he probably wouldn’t have been able to at the moment anyway – Madara leaned his upper half to one side and softly nuzzled the pale white shoulder of his _mate_. All his. His own. He couldn’t help the smile that took over his face when he felt Tobirama returning the affection, a gentle brush against the top of his head. A strange warm bubble swelled up inside his chest until he felt like he might burst and it almost startled him when he realized that the feeling was a happiness so overwhelming he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Finding a mate was supposed to be a happy occasion but he’d had no idea that he would be quite this thrilled about it.

He rather happily blamed Tobirama for that.

It had been a long time since Madara had slept next to anyone so it was a surprise how natural it felt to curl his body around the angles of Tobirama’s so that they could both rest their upper halves against each other’s flanks. Having the soft warmth of Tobirama’s fur underneath his head was much more comfortable than the unforgiving bark of a tree and the weight of Tobirama on his own rump was satisfying in a protective sort of way. It meant that his mate was right there in the safety of their embrace, close by where Madara could protect him if needed, and it was such a comfort that Madara drifted off to sleep faster than he could remember doing in years.

So comfortable was he that the morning sun had risen and was making its way up in to the sky long before he awoke. Madara blinked his eyes open to see that the day was well started, remaining still at first for the simple pleasure of feeling Tobirama breathe calmly beneath his head. A smile had only just touched his lips when he felt a hand stroking his coat, gentle fingers tracing down the line of his croup. His eyes snapped open and his head shot up just before that touch could move anywhere inappropriate.

Tobirama paused in mid-movement, slightly abashed at being caught. Slowly he retracted his hand and tilted his chin up to assume an aloof expression while deliberately reaching out to continue petting Madara’s fur. Notably, he didn’t wander anywhere less innocent than the spot where his head had rested all night. Madara shook out his hair to give himself time to come up with something clever to say beyond a rather pitiful demand that his mate return to what he had been doing before. Tobirama beat him to it.

“I would like to find my brother now that you’re awake. Several others of my herd should be arriving today for the remainder of the gathering and there is someone I would like to speak to.”

“That’s a good idea, actually. I’ll need to speak with Hashirama as well if I’m going to steal you away for my own.” The two of them shared a smile full of possibilities.

Madara refused to move until Tobirama had ceased stroking him but eventually they did manage to get up. Before doing anything else they went to find something to eat for the morning meal. Afterwards they roamed the grounds side by side, fingers entwined although neither of them so much as acknowledged the visible sign of affection. Madara was grateful for that. He thought if Tobirama asked him to have an in depth discussion about _feelings_ and such things that he might turn a new color and combust on the spot.

Not much energy went in to their search; it was more of a pleasant stroll filled with light conversation. They made plans to visit the archery games on the far south edge of the grassland area where the trees began and traded stories of the rare times either of their herds had spotted humans. When they finally found Hashirama he was standing close to the forest, both of his arms around the shoulders of a mare with the reddest hair that Madara had ever seen. Her coat was a cherry chestnut that matched beautifully to the rare shade of her mane and tail, an incredibly eye catching combination. Upon spotting her, Tobirama perked up.

“Ah good. They’re here then.”

“The others from your herd? They must have dawdled terribly to arrive so long after you.” Madara tilted his head curiously. “Who is that?”

“Her name is Mito; his mate, remember? She and Hashirama were bonded three years ago.”

Several others were milling around, waiting for a chance to greet their herd leader after the brief separation. Madara skimmed his eyes over them all, not really looking too closely at any of them, and he had already dismissed the bunch from his mind when Hashirama spotted the two of them and ushered Mito over to say hello.

“Good morning you two!” He called as they drew closer. Mito tilted her head, her red hair spilling down over both shoulders in vibrant waves.

“Who is this?” she asked, eyes on their entwined hands. Her voice was rich and quiet but there was a confidence about her that spoke of a mare who would brook no nonsense from anyone. Madara took an immediate liking to her, coaching himself out of his natural scowl as Tobirama introduced him.

“This is my chosen, Madara of the Uchiha herd.”

“I knew it!” Hashirama’s lower body quivered, tail flicking, and a wide smile split his face. “I knew you two would like each other! And now you’ll be mated! I’m so happy for you, brother!”

“Mn.” Tobirama gave little more than a grunt in response, although it was a happy sounding grunt.

Clearly Hashirama was used to it as he began to jabber on about how he could wish for no one better to be joined to his family. The rest of them easily tuned him out. While his sibling gushed and prattled, Tobirama slowly shook his head side to side in exasperation before letting his eyes rove over those who had only just arrived. Madara could see the moment he spotted the one he was looking for but as soon as he parted his lips to say something a loud, very familiar voice shouted from nearby.

“NII-SAN!”

Madara nearly tangled his legs together in his attempt to turn quickly. His eyes widened with excitement when he spotted Izuna bearing down on him, the precious brother who had followed his mate to another clan during this very gathering the year before. Izuna skidded to a stop just in time to not crash in to him but leaned forward so their chests crashed together anyway, dragging him in for a tight hug. Madara hugged back just as fiercely – with one arm, entirely forgetting to let go of Tobirama with the other. Breathing in that almost-forgotten scent weakened his knees with relief from worries he was only half aware that he still carried. It had been too long.

When they finally pulled away from each other Izuna kept his hands on Madara’s shoulders as though the thought of separating entirely was unbearable.

“Nii-san! You came! I’ve missed you!” His feet danced, bouncing his body from side to side with uncontained excitement.

“I missed you too, Izu,” Madara said quietly. “No one seemed to be able to tell me what herd you had emigrated to so I had no idea who to ask for news of you from. It’s good to see you. Have you been well?”

“Amazing! Because I found the most amazing mare in the whole world and I'm so lucky she agreed to be mine! You’re going to love her Nii-san. Now all we have to do is find you someone to bond with as well! I see you’ve already met Tobirama, that’s good. Hey Tobes!” Ignoring Tobirama’s seemingly instinctive grumble to call him by his full name, Izuna looked down and finally noticed something. “Why are you guys holding hands?”

Madara huffed in amusement. “Holding hands with one’s mate is a perfectly fine thing to do.” Saying it out loud was thrilling, verbally staking a claim over Tobirama without having to be aggressive about it. He closed his fingers tighter and felt Tobirama squeezing back. A light tug brought his attention to the side.

“There are many things that are fine to do with your mate,” Tobirama said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Between one heartbeat and the next he had leaned over and then they were kissing. With no warning! Madara had a fleeting thought that he was glad not to be cursed with two legs as the humans were because surely he would have fallen over right then, not just from shock but from the sheer pleasure as well. He’d never taken part in the kissing games that young colts play in imitation of the adults but even he could tell that Tobirama was a damn good kisser.

“Gross!” Izuna protested with good-natured laugh. “Stop it guys! You’ll make me go blind! I don’t want to watch my Nii-san make out with my friend.”

“Perhaps you should not watch then,” Tobirama retorted, swooping over for one more kiss before straightening to admire the obvious effect he’d had on Madara, who was now blushing and staring with a gaping jaw.

From behind Izuna, both Hashirama and Mito were laughing at the three of them, although Hashirama was also wiping at his eyes, misty from seeing the new couple so happy.

Madara happily listened to Izuna tell him all about how different life was with the Senju herd, confined within the trees and unable to see even a single full mile in any direction. His brother went on and on about his mate, Touka, and Madara wondered if he himself was going to sound like that every time he talked to someone about Tobirama. Not that he cared. If he wanted to sound like a colt with his first crush then he would and anyone who didn’t like it was invited to kiss his rump.

Eventually Tobirama was able to get a word in around the unceasing chatter and point out that he had been looking forward to seeing Izuna because he wanted to ask him a few questions about how difficult it had been to move between herds as he now intended to do. Mentioning his plans out loud set Hashirama off at last with a loud wail. Apparently the idiot hadn’t realized that Tobirama leaving was even an option and the reality of the situation hit him hard, to the surprise of no one. Mito very gracefully managed not to laugh at him while she draped a comforting arm over his withers.

The rest of them carefully sidled away to give Hashirama a moment to compose himself. Once they had reached a safe distance where they could hear each other over the sound of woeful sobbing, Izuna turned to Madara.

“Are you happy brother?”

“I should be asking you that,” Madara grumbled. A touch of color rose to his cheeks as his eyes flickered over to Tobirama before answering. “Yes, I am happy. And I’m glad to know that you are as well, no matter where you are.”

“Things are gonna be weird without you around, Tobes!” Izuna grinned when his brother-in-law to be sent him a vicious glare for the nickname.

“Hmph. I will be right where I should be.” Without getting overly sappy and laying it all out, Tobirama made his meaning very clear by stepping to the side and pressing himself up against Madara once more, his fingers holding tighter than ever.

Nearly overwhelmed with happiness, Madara took a deep breath to steady himself. Tobirama was warm and sturdy where their sides touched and already Madara could hardly imagine anyone else in his place. Centaur mating periods were notoriously short, he’d known that intellectually, but even now he could hardly believe how quickly they had slotted together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. And as he looked around he realized that it wasn’t only his own personal life which had fallen in to place so nicely.

He was more than just happy, he was at peace in a way he never had been before. Izuna had bonded and found a place to live out the rest of his life. An old friend had finally come back in to his life and he too was happy. Now Madara would return to his herd with Tobirama at his side, a mate he could feel proud of and show off with honest smugness. He was sure Takuma wasn’t very serious yet about finding a mate of his own and Madara looked forward to escorting him back to the gathering next spring as well.

Tobirama was right, he decided as Hashirama and Mito finally rejoined them; they were all right where they should be.


End file.
